


I'm Not Crazy

by Willam



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV First Person, Spencer's POV, mental illness mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 02:04:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7462392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Willam/pseuds/Willam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even geniuses (especially geniuses) are afraid of what it is that their brains are doing to them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Not Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> Circa Season 6 (when Reid was having all those scans).

The headaches are just getting worse. You can’t even sleep with the curtains closed anymore. And everyone just keeps asking questions that you don’t know how to answer. There’s this part of you that you can’t find, that you don’t know even exists for sure. There is a danger you can’t protect yourself from because it is you.

You stare at the man looking back at you from the mirror in the pale light from your bathroom fixture. You’re not even sure you know who he is anymore. I’m not crazy, I’m not her you tell yourself over and over again, not even noticing that you are at this point continuously calling your own mother crazy, something you have fought against from others for years. But the worst part for you is that it doesn’t mean anything anymore, it’s just words.

You stare deeply into your reflection’s eyes. You remember once how you came home to find your mother on the floor in the bathroom. She had smashed the mirror and was sitting in the corner cutting her hair off in clumps with a jagged piece of glass. You wonder what she had been thinking about, what she would have done if you haven’t come home when you did. You wonder what it felt like. You hear a smashing sound and come back to reality. Half of the glass from your medicine cabinet is in your sink, and your hand is in front of the door. You realize you must have smashed it. You just stare at the broken pieces of mirror in your sink.

You hear your door open, but you don’t move or look away from the sink. There is only one person it could be, only one person other than you who has a key.  
“You okay Pretty Boy?” He calls to you from the living room. You don’t answer.

“Spencer?” His voice is closer to you now, right beside you. You look up at him with tears in your eyes.

“I’m not crazy,” you say, almost begging.

He gathers you into your arms and holds you to his chest in a way that you know you should talk about later. But in a moment you don’t care because he’s kissing you deeply and murmuring into your hair.

“I know baby, I know.”


End file.
